Diaphanous
by quintilis
Summary: She loves him, and so she'll forget the times he comes home with the lingering scent of another woman's perfume on him. ExT


**category:** Card Captor Sakura

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

**notes: **Quite a departure from what I usually do, but I'm actually pleased with how it turned out.

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><p>The first time Tomoyo feels a doubt stirring in the pit of her stomach is when Eriol comes home one evening smelling of cassis and sandalwood. The scent is distinctly feminine, but the only perfume she wears is a light floral of lavender and orchid.<p>

"Something wrong, darling?" Eriol leans in for a kiss as he stamps the snow off his shoes.

"No." Tomoyo offers a shaky smile and turns around quickly to hang up his coat. "How was your day?"

x

When loading the washing machine the next month, Tomoyo shakes out one of Eriol's dress shirts to check for anything in the breast pocket and happens upon a bright red lipstick mark on the inside of the collar. Suddenly very weak, she crumples to the floor against the dryer.

The housekeeper comes in later that afternoon to find her mistress entirely disheveled and sobbing uncontrollably into an unassuming white shirt.

x

For their fourth wedding anniversary, Eriol books them a fantastic penthouse in springtime Paris and they ride across the Channel in Tomoyo's favorite ferry on the way there. Their day is idyllic: they eat ice-cream while window-shopping and attend a viewing for a newly-restored Monet and take a spin in the swan boats at Luxemburg Park.

"Had to reserve this six months in advance," Eriol murmurs in Tomoyo's ear as he pulls out her chair in the city's most famous restaurant that night. "The poached salmon with the black truffles is worth it, though."

While he pours the twenty-year-old merlot, Tomoyo reaches out to clasp his arm. "Eriol, I've had the best day today." She breathes in and wavers for the shortest second. "I love you."

His answer comes without hesitation. "I love you too, Tomoyo."

For this night, Tomoyo can forget about the foreign perfume and the lipstick on collars and the enigmatic appointments in his datebook. They're here, together, and they're happy.

x

The heat of summer drives Tomoyo to constant frustration halfway through July and she decides to finally figure out who the other woman is. A quick peek in Eriol's planner reveals that he has been visiting Caffe Vergnano three times a week for the last nine months (even though he's always hated coffee) and so on an ordinary Wednesday Tomoyo takes the train into the city.

She takes a seat in a back corner of the shop, wearing sunglasses and a hat with hair tied up out-of-sight. She tells the waitress not to come to her table and when Eriol arrives, she hides all but the tips of her eyes with a large newspaper.

Ten minutes pass and Eriol waits obliviously, watching the pedestrians pass and tapping his fingers. Tomoyo sits frozen, unable to breathe evenly. Then finally someone strolls in through the door and sets off the bells. Eriol rises to meet this person, gives her a long kiss and says something to her.

They laugh together. A little piece of Tomoyo dies inside.

For the next quarter hour, she quivers behind her newspaper and tries to pluck the courage and at least look at this woman who makes Eriol happy in a way she can't. She's sure she'll burst into tears if she dwells on it too long, so she steels herself and glimpses up at last.

Eriol has his back to her, which is probably fortunate. The woman faces her, and Tomoyo gets a good look at her. Blonde hair, grey eyes, very attractive. She's wearing a short sundress and carries herself confidently as she leans in to whisper to Eriol.

Tomoyo wonders idly if she's married as well, if she's there's a husband out there who's hurting as much as she is now.

The two leave just as the clock strikes five. They head uptown, away from the train station. _To her flat_, Tomoyo thinks bitterly. She gets up herself and leaves.

She doesn't miss when Eriol gets home three hours after her, smelling of sex and sandalwood.

x

They host a dinner party in the autumn for Eriol's employees, in celebration of an important case the firm recently won. Tomoyo arranges everything to run smoothly, wears an expensive new dress, and puts on a plastic smile for the guests. She thinks of how they must appear to be the perfect couple: Eriol holds her close by the waist as they greet the guests and introduces her as his flawless wife, the love of his life.

She only feels hollow, as if the part of her that should be responding to his glances and his touches is dead. They've slept on the opposite sides of the bed for the last month and haven't kissed for twice that time. Somewhere along the line something broke into pieces.

"What a beautiful house you have," the wife of Mr. Milner, the last couple to arrive, exclaims upon stepping inside and glancing around the high-ceilinged foyer.

Tomoyo steps forward mechanically to lead her to the sitting room, where the other women have been chatting. "Thank you! The mansion's been in Eriol's family for over fifty years…" They head off, leaving the men to congregate and talk business.

The rest of the evening passes in pleasantries and compliments on her tortellini di zucca and plenty of champagne, altogether too slowly for Tomoyo's taste. Everyone leaves slowly after the tiramisu is polished off and Tomoyo says goodbye to them all hastily.

"Maude, can you lock the door on your way out?" Tomoyo taps the shoulder of the housekeeper, who is busy cleaning up, as she makes her way to the stairs. Her feet have been aching for the last hour from those horrible shoes and all she wants is to collapse into a deep sleep. "Good night."

Eriol is rummaging in his wardrobe as she walks into the bedroom, so she slips into the bathroom quietly. Her face under the bright lights of the mirrors seems drawn and pale, her eyes too dark in a sea of white.

"Eriol," she calls after five minutes of struggling with her dress. "Can you please help me with my zipper?"

His footsteps come slowly around the corner. "Sure."

She sweeps her hair across one shoulder to show him the problem. "I think it's stuck – might have to take it to a tailor, this designer always has technical issues."

Eriol's fingers move carefully down her back as he pulls the fabric out of the zipper's teeth. When he finishes and the dress starts to slip down her body, Tomoyo places a hand on the front to keep it in place and tries to step away. "Thanks."

But Eriol doesn't let her go, and instead grasps her shoulder firmly. "Tomoyo, let's stop this."

The air swooshes out from her lungs in a clean movement. "W-what do you mean?"

Eriol turns her around and pushes her chin up to meet his gaze. "You've been so strange these past months." He leans in closer to touch her cheek. "I'm tired, and I miss you."

Tomoyo feels a sob building within her and fights it down. "I don't know what's wrong. But nothing feels normal anymore."

He looks surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Tomoyo manages a lie even as her world is falling apart. "I just want you to be happy, Eriol. Please." She takes his face in her hands. "Tell me you are." Because that's all there is to it. She loves and he receives and their relationship is as thin and transient as butterfly wings.

He doesn't answer, but kisses her hard, twice. Before they know it her dress comes off and she's unbuttoning his shirt frantically. Two months is a long time to be alone. She fumbles with his belt buckle and Eriol smiles into her hair and things seem perfect for a fleeting second.

x

In the morning, Tomoyo wakes up cold and in an empty bed. She cries into the sheets and doesn't get up for the rest of the day.

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: Well, don't really know where that came from. But I like it, I think. What did you all think?


End file.
